Dark beauty: Murillo's childhood
Sickly little things, Murillo's children, all puppy-eyes and rags and rosebud lips. Ick. Well, that's true to an extent, but not entirely. This show of the Spaniard's Scenes Of Childhood suggests a darker side to his waifs and strays - and a better one.
The painter's own family life was hardly an advertisement for happy childhood - Murillo was one of 14 impoverished orphans - nor was the Seville of his day any bed of roses: two bouts of plague wiped out half the city's population and famines and earthquakes accounted for a good part of the rest.
You wouldn't expect this to produce much in the way of aw-shucksness and it didn't. Behind the wet eyes and pink cheeks of Murillo's urchins is a story of deep personal suffering: of love manifested through such earthy things as mothers picking nits out of their children's hair or street kids sharing a stolen melon.
Given this dark backdrop, the prettiness of Murillo's infants is not so much cosmetic as indicative of the beauty of their souls. The Christian idea of the purity of children had a particular resonance for a man whose own childhood had been blighted, and Murillo set out to show that purity in paint. And, goodness, he could wield a brush. One of the big surprises of this show is not its darkness but the virtuosity with which that darkness was painted.
Until May 13, Dulwich Picture Gallery, Gallery Road SE21, Tue to Thu 10am to 5pm, Fri 10am to 9pm, Sat and Sun 11am to 5pm, £7, £6 concs, except before 5pm Fri £3.
Tel: 020 8693 5254. Rail: West Dulwich
